California Nice

A comment posted by a reader of SfGate.com told the small story of how she was once hastily cut off by another driver just before reaching the toll booths on Golden Gate Bridge. Her next few moments were spent road-ragedly cursing the driver in front of her, right up until it was her turn to pay, and she was told by the toll worker that the driver in front of her had paid her toll (five bones, mind you) and was sorry for the maneuver.

The teller of this story offered it up as evidence for what she thought was a pretty unique phenomenon- a major U.S. city with people who can actually be nice to one another.

Hmm. Yeah, I guess I'll buy it. To be sure, there are many not-so-nice moments (my ladyfriend's car was broken into two weeks ago while it was parked just a crackpipe's throw away from my front door), but if I think about it, I can come up with a handful of situations I have been involved in that were made blogworthy by a little bit o' San Francisco Nice.

Top Three.

3) I walked across the bar one night to pick up a $20 bill directly underneath a woman sitting on a stool, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave her back what she dropped. She thanked me enthusiastically, and I returned to my table. Ten minutes later, she was at my table to thank me again, this time with a shot of single-malt scotch. Nice lady.

2) The roommate and I went out one night in search of a specific seedy little establishment that is known for its surly, jaded, and unpredictable bartender (he kicked a guy out into the street for playing Dylan on the jukebox, the online review warned). We found the place, cautiously took seats at the bar, and oh-so-respectfully ordered drinks from the big buy across from us. Carl introduced himself with handshakes, guessed correctly that it was our first time at his place, and then spent the next two hours charming us. The bar was mostly empty, and it seemed he got bored easily, so he stayed busy by telling us dirty jokes, yelling insults at people walking past the open front door, and sliding us free 7 ounce bottles of MGD every fifteen minutes. He told me I really should see Jersey Boys while it's running at the theater down the street, and then made me take a tequila shot with him. He threw the DVD of "The Illusionist" at us, saying it was one he enjoyed a lot, and pressed, "Take it home, watch it. If you bring it back, you bring it back, if you don't, you don't." Carl is one nice guy.

1) Six months ago, I had just moved to the city and was living in a cheap Chinatown hotel while I looked for apartments. I met a girl that lived nearby and we ran around together for a bit, exploring the neighborhood. I knew her for all of three days before she offered her rent-free air mattress to crash on, and I accepted. Nice.